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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904172">grape toss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloophen/pseuds/aloophen'>aloophen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Gen, dad! bokuto, grumpy unnamed baby, keep babies away from grapes irl!!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:26:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloophen/pseuds/aloophen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They stare at each other as Bokuto’s face sets into a stern expression. </p>
<p>“Akaashi,” he says seriously, “give him a toss.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bokuto Koutarou/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>grape toss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p>Fatherhood suited Bokuto well, Akaashi thinks. Bokuto himself radiates ‘big kid’ energy so Akaashi figured he would have a natural inclination for dealing with kids. Initially, though, Akaashi couldn’t help but be concerned when thinking about Bokuto handling an infant. A toddler? That was fine, kids that age had more resilience. A tiny, helpless baby was a different story though. Bokuto had surprised him by confiding to him at one point that he shared the same concern.</p>
  </div>
  <div class="">
    <p>All of those concerns were out the window now that Akaashi had seen Bokuto in action. He has to give Bokuto credit as he watches him handle the irritated, unwieldy, and <em>teething</em> baby in his arms. Bokuto gently cradles his son as he tugs his sock back on his foot with care and precision, begging him not to kick it back off. Baby Bokuto wasn’t having it, unfortunately, and kicked his feet about while tearing at the teething toy between his fat cheeks.</p>
  </div>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It had been awhile since Akaashi had been able to see Bokuto in a social setting. He had received plenty of photos and videos over text, but he figured his senior probably missed socializing. If he wasn’t at practice, Bokuto was at home helping care for the baby. Bokuto had agreed enthusiastically when Akaashi asked if he could visit. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bokuto had greeted him with his usual booming laughter and his son on his hip. As they sat over breakfast, Bokuto chatted animatedly as he picked at a bowl of grapes, “Man, who knew having a kid could be so exhausting!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Everyone knows that,</em> Akaashi thinks. He looks at Bokuto more closely; broad shoulders slumped over, his eyes are as bright as ever, but he can see dark circles have started to form, and his nose is bright red from the baby attempting— and sometimes succeeding— to gnaw on it that morning. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s crazy how much he eats! Sometimes after I feed him, he starts crying like I never fed him at all!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Akaashi lets him prattle away, Bokuto can carry on like nobody’s business. He figures it’s somewhat therapeutic for him. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And baby clothes are so confusing, there’re so many buttons!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Akaashi finds himself distracted by baby Bokuto’s intense battle against the teething toy. He’s not sure he’s ever seen a child attack something with such fiery passion. Bokuto takes notice.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What’s up, Akaashi? You wanna hold him?” he offers.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Baby Bokuto looks up as if he could sense he was about to be handed off. He focuses his gaze on Akaashi as if he were analyzing which part of Akaashi’s face he could get his gums on first. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Akaashi shakes his head.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Maybe when he’s less… aggravated,” he says carefully.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Bokuto shrugs and goes back to his one-sided conversation, “anyways, one of the dogs is a cop <em>and</em> a spy. He also has a drone, it feels kind of dystopian to be honest. Did I use dystopian correctly? What do you think, Akaashi?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have never watched Paw Patrol, Bokuto-san.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The baby suddenly flings the teething toy halfway across the room while bellowing some sort of victory squeal. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Wow, nice toss!” Bokuto says as he moves to get up, but Akaashi stops him with a raised hand, “Maybe he’ll be a great setter like you, Akaashi!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Akaashi smiles as he retrieves the toy and places it on the table. The baby points at the toy with a balled up fist. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Kids shows are kinda weird these days, I’ve been reading to him a lot instead so I think the only thing he needs to watch are his dad’s games,” Bokuto lifts his kid up to his face, “right, son?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The baby looks ready to lunge at his nose again, but Bokuto takes evasive action and puts him back in his lap. He gives his son a knuckle on his finger to chew instead. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I can’t wait to teach him how to play volleyball!” Bokuto says thoughtfully. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He places a grape between his thumb and index finger and lets his hand hover in front of his son’s face, “you’re gonna hit lots of spikes just like your old man, right?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The baby slaps the hell out that grape. It goes flying past Akaashi who’s as visibly shocked as his senior. They stare at each other as Bokuto’s face sets into a stern expression. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Akaashi,” he says seriously, “give him a toss.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>***</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You return home from running errands exhausted and your arms full of bags. You had tried to rush so you would at least be able to say hello to Akaashi before he left. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m home!” you call out, but you’re drowned out by the sounds emanating from the living room. Confused, you round the corner to make your way into the room, but are stopped in your tracks by the feeling of something cold and gushy under your foot. Lifting your leg to inspect it, you find a grape dripping off of your foot. You pause to take a look at the floor; grapes, everywhere, scattered about like tiny landmines. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Give him another one!” you hear Bokuto yell. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’ll make this one higher,” Akaashi replies. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ah, missed! You’ll get the next one!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You rush into the room, “what is going on in here?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Akaashi freezes with a grape held between fingers. Bokuto has your son in his arms ready to be maneuvered in the air. The baby is swinging his arms in the air aimlessly, legs kicking about. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Akaashi has the decency to look ashamed, but Bokuto comes over to you with the bouncing baby, looking as excited as ever, “Look! Our son’s going to be a hitter! My boy’s a natural!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You sigh, “you’re cleaning this up.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You got it, babe!” He jogs back over to Akaashi, “Let’s go again!”</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>me: i would like to try writing romance<br/>my brain: no, write this dumb shit instead</p>
<p>@alouphen on tumblr</p></blockquote></div></div>
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